


Stray

by creativewritingnameforgotten



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Betrayal, Character Death, Drama, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29329242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativewritingnameforgotten/pseuds/creativewritingnameforgotten
Summary: Byleth is captured, Rhea thinks that she'll have her mother back except she realizes mother loves Byleth by reviving her after an attempted execution.Now the Kingdom is confused as to what to do, go against Rhea or against the Goddess' chosen one.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	1. Lost

She watched the snow fall through the small holes of her cell window, landing onto the thin ragged linens she was given to change into. It was hard to tell what time of the day it was due to the grey sky of the Fhirdiad winters, but it wasn’t like it would really matter to Byleth. The last thing she had remembered was Rhea’s white dragon form causing the ground to break and waking up chained in a caravan with a magic silencing collar. Wherever she managed to land, it was five years later and somehow some members of the Kingdom captured her. From what Byleth was able to gather, the Empire was still waging war against the Church, along with Faerghus and the Alliance.

As she touched the tips of her messy mint green hair, Byleth would think about Sothis and what the tiny Goddess would say if she could still communicate. First, it would be a lecture about throwing her life away fighting Rhea and then maybe some words of comfort that Sothis would always be with her no matter what. There was a resentment that still remained, to have the fate of being the next Archbishop just because Rhea willed it. It was a selfishness that Jeralt realized too late about that woman and one that Byleth wanted to be freed from. 

The jangle of keys would rustle her cell door open as the tall dark form of Dedue would appear before her. After years of not seeing him, scars of war covered his face as his deadpan expression matched her own in greeting. 

“It’s time,” he stated, she would nod in return. 

He would lead her in heavy chains, barefoot, up several flights of stairs. Even with the heaviness of her binds, Byleth wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of showing any weakness. In a small, clean, open area behind the castle walls surrounded by a ring of snow, Byleth would see some older familiar figures. The hardened looks of both Sylvain and Mercedes stood out amongst the other Knights of Seiros like Catherine and Cyril. As Dedue threw her to the ground, Byleth would face the angry green eyes of Rhea, now known as Saint Seiros. Behind the Archbiship, stood the glaring eyes of Seteth and the almost unfamiliar armored form of the King of Faerghus Dimitri. 

“Finally,” seethed Rhea. “After all these years, I can take back the mistake I made.” 

Byleth would briefly think on the word “mistake”. How many others did Rhea experiment on and consider a mistake before giving up after Sitri? 

“Any last words?” asked Seteth calmly. 

She would think about simpler times, happier times when she explored the world with Jeralt. The nights beside the fireside, eating hunted game, learning about strategy and sleeping in the open fields permeated through her thoughts. If there was one thing that Byleth knew the night he died, Jeralt was proud to have her as his daughter and it was something that she still carried with her. Byleth would show a rare smile at that thought, one that stunned the three in front of her. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon father,” Byleth sighed peacefully. 

Rhea would stifle a haughty laugh, “Do you really believe Jeralt would have been happy with seeing his daughter start this war? No matter, I’ll take back what is mine.” 

They would watch as the archbishop approached Byleth with a dagger at hand. As Rhea sliced the valley in between her chest, she would drop the dagger and plunge her bare hand into Byleth’s heart. Through the screams of Byleth and everyone else around that were deaf to Rhea’s ears, she grabbed the Crest of Flames she inserted years ago. Byleth’s hair and eyes shifted to her original dark blue hue as her body dropped surrounded in blood. 

“Mother, I’m so sorry,” Rhea whispered to the crest in her red drenched hands. “I’ll make sure to take better care next time.”

It was then she realized something didn’t feel right, staring down at the crest, she noticed the small cracks forming. Her shocked eyes only grew wider as it crumbled to dust, seeping into the blood in her hands. Rhea would turn her sight to the dead girl on the ground in horror. The roots of Byleth’s dark hair started to slowly spill back to the light green as her eyes followed. In the process, the large wound on her chest would close up and heal. A few moments later, Byleth would wake up in confusion, covered in her own blood. 

“Sothis, why?” she thought as she stood back up. Byleth wasn’t unfamiliar with the exhaustion of her body after the Goddess’ power healed her the first time. However, the one difference this time, was the beating in her chest. 

Her heart was beating for the first time. 

The eyes of the crowd around her bore from all sides, but Byleth’s only focus was the devastated woman in front of her. 

“She couldn’t have,” Rhea sputtered as her whole body shook. “Why….why….Mother chose you over me? What did you do to her? 

The Archbishop could only see the tired expression of her mother staring back at her. 

“Don’t judge me with those eyes!,” she screamed as her arm laid a punch at Byleth’s face. Before she could continue her assault, the forms of Dimitri and Seteth held her back. 

As Dedue took over for Dimitri in leading Rhea away with Seteth followed by Catherine and Cyril, Byleth moved her hand to her chest, confused at the new sensation. Looking at her surroundings, Mercedes and Sylvain had closed in on her while Dimitri stood bewildered ice blue eyes slightly hidden behind his shaggy blond hair.

“Professor….” was all he could say.

Her body would start to wobble as her eyes closed, when she fell, Sylvain managed to catch her before she hit the ground. 

“Your majesty, what do we do?” Sylvain’s voice troubled with what he just saw. “The goddess really chose Byleth over Rhea.”

Mercedes moved her hands to inspect the sleeping girl’s chest through the ripped linen shirt. “She seems to just be sleeping, the wound is completely healed but she’s weak and freezing.”

“We need to monitor her closely, this development will only cause us trouble if we can’t contain it,” Dimitri surmised as he thought about the other branches of the church that opposed Rhea. 

“Some place else instead of a cell right? I’m all for carrying a beautiful girl around, but I don’t think we should be taking her back there. Especially with what just happened,” said Sylvain as he tried to lighten up the situation to hide his own anxiety. 

Mercedes would solemnly nod in agreement with Sylvain’s suggestion. 

Dimitri would take his large fur cape off to bundle Byleth in from the sharpness of the winter cold of Faerghus. Watching the sleeping girl in Sylvain’s arms, he wanted to ask more about Rhea’s words. If swearing his fealty to Rhea meant going against the will of the Goddess, he would have to realign his prioritizations. 

Nothing was going to stop him from getting his revenge.


	2. Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth is a prisoner in her own room and gets visits from people she doesn't like.

Byleth would wake up to the feeling of a plush pillow and the warmth of a fresh comforter on a large elaborate bed. Still disoriented, she sat up to see her luxurious surroundings of royal blue and the weight of her right ankle strapped with a long chain tied to her golden bedpost. Curling a strand of green hair in on her index finger, Byleth tried to pulse only to feel the sharp sting of her magic silencing collar. 

“You have a strange sense of humor Sothis,” she thought as she leaned her back to the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Why even bring her back to life if she couldn’t get out of her prison?

Hunger came rumbling, how long had she been asleep? The last thing she remembered was passing out in Sylvain’s arms after being punched by Rhea. Touching her cheek, Byleth noted that someone must have healed it. Based on her thick blue nightgown, someone must have also cleaned and bathed her. 

At the center of the room contained some assorted fruits, a pitcher of water and an empty glass, Byleth approached it, gingerly taking a large red apple. As hungry as she was, each bite she took hit her stomach like lead. Though her accommodations were comfortable, she was still a prisoner and unaware what her enemy’s next moves were. 

A gentle knock followed by a slow creak of her bedroom door revealed a royal blue uniform clad Dedue holding a series of items, her belongings, in his arms. 

“You’re awake,” he said plainly. Byleth would curtly nod. Both of them were never much for conversation, even during the academy days working in the greenhouse. 

“His majesty wanted to make sure you were comfortable, please let me know if there’s anything you need,” Dedue stated has he laid her things on her bed. 

She would approach her bed, seeing her old clothes with her weaponry missing. Searching one of her pockets, Byleth would feel a sense of relief as she pulled out Jeralt’s wedding ring. Remembering his words to her about giving it to the one she loved, Byleth let out a small smile, laughing in her head at the joke of it. Holding the ring close to her heart, she wondered what Jeralt would say about her predicament, what would he do?

“Would it be okay if you could get a chain necklace for this?” she asked. Dedue would nod in response. 

“Is there anything you would like for dinner? There is a possibility that either his majesty or Sylvain will be joining you,” he asked. 

Byleth held back her tongue, the part where she wanted to say she didn’t want anyone joining her.

“I have no preference,” she mustered in response as she moved her items to the nearby dresser table. Dedue would politely bow before leaving her alone in the room again. 

There would be a flood of questions that would rise in Byleth’s mind due to the solitude of her room mostly revolving on what was going to happen to her. She knew the political implications at least, the Archbishop couldn’t kill her if the Goddess decided to still stay with Byleth. The rifts in the churches had been there for years and to go against what the Goddess willed would only cause more issues. However, freeing Byleth would mean allowing her to join the Empire, which was something that the Kingdom could not move forward with. 

In the five years that had passed, just how much did Rhea reveal about Byleth’s origins? It was odd that she seemed so comfortable addressing the Goddess as her mother in front of a group. Byleth, as far as she knew, was never supposed to exist based on Jeralt’s diary. If her thoughts were truly aligned with Sothis as their souls were, then perhaps the reason why she was saved was to serve a punishment to Rhea for raising what was never allowed to live in the first place. 

Another knock on the door would reveal the calm sweetness of Mercedes, who would join Byleth at the bedside to check on her wounds. In her hands held the small silver chain that Byleth requested from Dedue, placing it gently into Byleth’s. As she thread Jeralt’s ring, clasping the necklace around her, Mercedes sat watching Byleth curiously. 

“What is she like? The Goddess?” Mercedes asked quietly. 

Of course a pious woman like her would want to know, Byleth knew that what had transpired would test the faiths of those who witnessed her rising. 

“I suppose I don’t really deserve an answer, we march on behalf of the Church, but it seems she chose you,” the healer continued. “I imagine you might be searching for answers too. Perhaps your role isn’t over yet.” 

Byleth would observe her more, the demeanor that shielded the conflict of choosing between her faith and her friends. They once enjoyed each other’s company at the academy despite Byleth’s professor status, eating the sweets that Annette would bake and drinking tea. Now they were on opposite sides with Byleth’s fondness for them fading over time. 

Mercedes would move her hand to the progenitor god’s cheek before gesturing to her chest for consent. Byleth would nod as she unbuttoned the front part of her nightgown to reveal the clean skin that should have been destroyed. 

“If I wasn’t there, I don’t think I would have believed it if I had just heard it,” Mercedes would continue, knowing she was only talking to herself. “Anyways, it seems I’m disturbing you, I’ll be on my way.” 

Byleth would watch the blonde close the door shut then covered herself with her blanket to try and force herself to sleep. It was an awful feeling, hungry but unable to stomach food and exhaustion but unable to rest. Her mind would wander to Linhardt, who could fall asleep at the bat of an eye after rattling off about Crests. 

“Linhardt, Ferdinand, Dorothea, Petra, Caspar, Bernadetta, Hubert, Edelgard,” she thought nostalgically of her students and their past days together. “I hope you’re all okay, please make it out alive.” 

After reminiscing about her father and former students, Byleth was able to fall into an uncomfortable sleep. 

“You called?” asked a familiar haughty voice in the dark void. Byleth would turn around and see nothing. 

“Sothis, I don’t understand why you can’t let me go, why I can’t go,” her voice shaking. “Please help me understand.”

“Yes...As you know, we are one. It is as you suspected earlier and what my daughter came to conclusion, I have chosen you over her. You are both very dear to me, but her obsession is a fault of mine. ” the voice stated, echoing. 

“Get someone else to do this,” Byleth shook her head in disbelief. “I shouldn’t be here trapped in an ice castle waiting to see what they’re going to do to me.”

“You’re right,” Sothis’ voice rang. “My apologies, I have told my only lie to you. In the past, I said that where you go, I go, but this is something we cannot abandon.”

“What about the students I’m abandoning?” Byleth demanded.

“They are no longer students, but grown men and women whom have decided their own fates. The sides have been chosen and only time will know how this will fully play,” Sothis responded sadly. 

Byleth continued to stare out, knowing that it would be a waste of time to discuss further. When was it ever fruitful to argue with Sothis?

The last words she would hear before she could feel the warmth of light whispered: 

Forgive me 

Her eyes would flutter open to the sight of Dimitri and Dedue hovering over her, both appearing concerned with her condition. The warm smell of food hit her along with a wave of nausea similar to her earlier attempt at eating an apple. 

“Shall we have Mercedes come into check on her?” Dedue asked Dimitri. 

“I’m fine,” grumbled Byleth as she got up, sitting at the edge of the bed, her ankle chain jangling, rubbing groggy eyes. “Don’t need another checkup.”

Dimitri would stare down at the small familiar woman, more gaunt and pale in appearance than the day before. When he had heard about her capture, Dimitri made it a point to avoid Byleth. No matter what he said to Rhea, his words had fallen into deaf ears. He didn’t fault her, Dimitri would have done the same if someone were to ask him to spare Edelgard. To him, it wasn’t worth losing a worthy war ally for the purpose of satisfying his academy day nostalgia. Unfortunately, his regret would linger as he could see the broken bridge that separated himself and the person he used to call a friend. 

“I’d like to join you for dinner tonight,” he stated, hoping that she couldn’t hear the hesitation in his voice. 

Dedue would bend down to unlock the ankle bind. Rubbing the reddened skin, she locked eyes with the King of Faerghus dressed in his black armor and fur cape. Somehow he had surpassed Dedue in height during her five year sleep, the boyish face transformed into a handsome chiseled man. If only she could pulse back in time and switch places with one of Dimitri’s many academy admirers, they would surely be better company than her. 

“Suppose I mustn’t refuse his majesty,” she muttered as her green gaze would move away from Dimitri to her own nightgown. “Can’t say I’m dressed for the occasion to entertain a king.” A part of Byleth hoping that feeble excuse would change his mind. 

“I apologize, due to wartimes, we haven’t accommodated many guests in our castle quarters. Things have been bare,” Dimitri replied as Dedue set up the table with a tea set and two bowls of hearty stew. “We have much to discuss and it would be best if you ate given your previous conditions.”

She would purse her lips before stepping to the dinner table. Dedue would pull the chair back to allow Byleth to sit before moving to do the same for Dimitri. The king would motion his vassal to leave them as Byleth’s discomfort would rise. Taking her small hand, she delicately took her silver fork, piercing a small cut of meat, eating it cautiously as she did with the apple earlier. If her dream of Sothis was real, Byleth would need to regain her energy for whatever was going to happen. 

“It’s strange seeing you eat so carefully, I remember the days where you used to rival Raphael with food,” mused Dimitri in his low voice, disturbing Byleth with how much she remembered his younger self. 

“What did you want to talk about your majesty?,” she asked evenly as her eyes would meet his again. “Your time is clearly precious in an era of war. I will answer as much as I can.” 

He had expected this kind of combative tension from her, as weak as she was, the fire in her light green eyes still remained. Not many would be crazy enough to make such an expression in front of the Tempest King, but Dimitri knew that Byleth had never cared for titles. It was one of the qualities that drew many students to her, along with the kindness she returned and something that Dimitri was surprised by due to his initial impression of her lack of humanity. 

“Rhea mentioned that her mother was inside of you, that she needed to free her from your body. Yet, it seems that she chose to stay with you. Has the Goddess forsaken Rhea? Her own daughter?” Dimitri asked frankly, leaving his own meal untouched, fixated on Byleth’s progressively narrowing stare. 

“All I know is that ever since Solon threw me into the darkness, the Goddess fused herself into me and has told me she will be with me for as long as I live,” Byleth would respond, her fingers tightening around the silver fork in her hand. “Why she brought me back to life, I don’t even know myself.” 

She never said she would answer him honestly. 

“It seems that it’s possible if Rhea were to try and kill you again, the Goddess would halt the process,” Dimitri guessed, raising his hand to his chin. 

Byleth remembered Sothis’ words, the students were now adults who made their own choices. The blonde man in front of her was her enemy, not the boy she knew back in her teaching days. 

His eyes gazed away with hesitation at the thought of his next query, but pressed forth anyways. 

“Why would you side with those who murdered Jeralt?”

Dimitri immediately regretted asking as it brought back memories of the day it happened. Commotion could be heard outside of Dedue’s room as it was situated next to Byleth’s. When Dedue and Dimitri opened the door, they would see Ferdinand von Aegir, Dorothea Arnault and Caspar von Bergliez attempting to stop Byleth from entering the training grounds on that rainy day. Dimitri would remember the distress of her once dark blue eyes as she gave up and walked into her room rain soaked without a word to him and shut the door.

He also remembered the subsequent days, telling Byleth that he would lend her his strength in avenging her father’s death. It was something that he couldn’t grasp about why Byleth was where she was now and as someone who offered himself to her goals of revenge, Dimitri felt the right to know. 

“You remember my first day at the academy, after we met in Remire?” she inquired, continuing after seeing him nod in return. “My father had told me to be careful of Rhea. At the time, I couldn’t understand why until a couple days after his death when I stumbled on his diary.” 

Dimitri would watch her unconsciously tap at the silver necklace underneath her nightgown. 

“I was born without a heartbeat, something that led to him to take me and leave the Knights of Seiros. He had long suspected that Rhea had something to do with it, something she alluded to me after I had fused with the Goddess,” Byleth would say, close to a whisper. “Next thing I know, she’s talking to me about how I’m supposed to be replacing her.” 

“This doesn’t answer anything,” Dimitri would reply coldly, insulted that he had even offered his sword to help her avenge Jeralt. “From what Rhea has told us, she saved your life.”

“She tried to save her mother’s life, not mine. I chose the option based on what my father and I wanted, freedom away from her,” replied Byleth sternly. “He wasn’t given a choice on whether or not to rejoin the Knights of Seiros. Even if Edelgard…”

The Tempest King slammed a fist on the table, rumbling several utensils to the ground and causing lukewarm tea to spill. “Do not speak that name…” he warned with anger in his blue eyes. 

“I made my choice,” Byleth proceeded. “Because I wanted freedom and I also know “that woman” would not break her own promise in helping me avenge my father. It’s something that I presume his majesty won’t understand.” 

“For such an intelligent person, I never knew your reasonings could be so feeble,” Dimitri said as he glared ice at Byleth at the thought of Edelgard. “You chose a path of bloodshed for your own selfish gains. I felt like I had known you better. If only the Goddess had not saved you.” 

A silence fell into the room, as Dimitri’s anger slowly subsided, he came to realize the weight of his words and felt a tinge of regret. Her stoned faced response told him more than what he wished to know, that there was no turning back and fixing what they once had. 

“Our hands are all covered in bloodshed your majesty. The only difference is what we do it on behalf of.” Byleth stared at her mostly untouched stew. “I also wish the Goddess hadn’t saved me and if you wish to try where Rhea failed, you might be doing me a favor. My father would be better company.” 

His blonde brows would furrow as she dabbed her lips with a cloth napkin. There was a quality about the mint haired girl in front of him that threw him back to his academy days, the way he felt so uneasy over her blank walls. The younger, weaker him would have stumbled on his words, apologized for his brashness. Then again, academy Dimitri would have probably never said something like that in the first place. 

“I will take my leave, Dedue will come back to clean the table and chain you back,” he murmured as he rose from his chair. “Good night Byleth.”

As Dimitri exited her room, he took one last glance at Byleth, who had stood up and turned her back to face a window. The exchange was about as rough as he had expected, but he clearly underestimated her verbal fighting spirit. She was always a beautiful, smart girl, admired by many in her teaching days, but Dimitri saw a side that he had never seen before. It was the way she didn’t fear him and defied him that both confused and enthralled him, something he didn't want to experience again. 

For the first time, in a long time, someone made him feel small.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a character exploration, just my thoughts on how things would have been handled since I always wondered how it would have played out if Rhea and the Blue Lions knew that Sothis and Byleth were basically one soul. Like, if Sothis is the Goddess, would that mean that the Blue Lions would have to put Byleth above Rhea since Dimitri swore fealty to the Church? For sure Dimitri wouldn't be able to accept it since Byleth chose Edelgard in CF? I dunno
> 
> My brain goes brrrrrrrrr


	3. Waiting

The next several days were quiet and unnerving. After her dinner with Dimitri, the only visits she received were from Mercedes and Dedue to tend to her basic needs. Both had been kind enough to provide books to entertain her in her luxury prison. It was uncomfortable constantly being watched, especially when it came to her bathtime. Dedue would unlock her chain and place a silencing wristband with her collar already on and vice versa the following bathtime. 

On one particular day, when Dedue had other obligations, Byleth would come face to face with a melancholy Sylvain taking over that duty. Dressed in a thick brown turtleneck, matching trousers with a sword at his hilt, not much had changed in appearance for him apart from a change of hairstyle. 

“Afternoon Byleth, um, I guess I should help you with this,” he said as he raised the new collar, his brown eyes lowered in discomfort. She would turn around, lifting her hair in cooperation. Sylvain would unlock the clasp of the silver chain containing Jeralt’s ring on her neck before placing the silencing collar over it. The magical sting would cause her to flinch. 

“Sorry,” Sylvain whispered. “Not the way I ever wanted to get close to you.” He unlocked the one on her wrist before stepping back. 

“I don’t know what Dimitri asked to have prepared for you, but I thought I’d bring some jasmine bath salts,” he stated slowly as he removed a small bag from his back pouch. “Back in the academy days, you used to like these things right?”

Of course the red haired knight would remember these things about a woman, even after a five year absence. 

Byleth nodded in silent thanks, grateful despite the conditions that he would bring something so familiar to her. He would unlock her ankle chain without a word. Gathering a fresh thick nightgown and underthings from her dresser, she walked into her bathroom, looking forward to the only thing she truly enjoyed out of her day. With Dedue, he would wait outside of her door until she was finished, Byleth would expect no different from Sylvain. 

As she ran warm water into her bathtub, she sprinkled some of the bath salts in, instantly feeling comforted by the familiar scent. The extreme cold wasn’t something that Byleth was fond of so whatever time she could take relaxing in comfort was something she would embrace. Byleth would let out a deep sigh at the hot water on her skin as she entered the tub, slowly inching herself in a seated position. 

“Take your time, don’t rush yourself,” Sylvain would say behind the door. “Let me know if you need me to grab anything extra.” 

She wouldn’t respond, partially out of lack of interest in conversing with him and the other at the thought of him rummaging through her clothes.  
“Say Byleth, this ring you have, it’s really big for a woman like you,” he’d continue yelling through the door. 

She would let out an annoyed sigh, placing her back of her head at the rim of the bathtub. It was clear that Sylvain was goading her into a chat due to his discomfort over the quiet strain between them. 

Unfortunately, Byleth would give in, as payment for the bath salts. 

“It was my father’s,” she answered. 

“I didn’t know that Jeralt would be into flower motifs,” replied Sylvain in a toying tone, seemingly relieved at Byleth responding back to him. 

“My mother loved flowers, he’d give her different ones anytime he saw her,” responded Byleth in return. 

“What’s your favorite flower? I never knew when we were in the academy,” he asked. After a few moments, realizing she wasn’t going to answer, Sylvain moved on. 

“Wish we didn’t have to reunite like this, it was terrifying watching what Rhea did to you.” 

Byleth would purse her green eyes, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t be saying that out loud, you are still part of the Church after all.”

“Glad to hear you care after all these years,” he laughed. “I’ve really missed you.”

“Me and half of the female population of Fodlan,” Byleth quipped, earning her another laugh behind the door. 

“I mean it Byleth, these five years have been awful. Don’t get me wrong, I know we’re on opposite ends, it’s just nice thinking about better days.”

The rest of her bath would be in silence. Byleth almost hesitated to leave the tub to face him. Though he was never her student, they had spent a lot of time together by proxy through Dimitri. Hanneman, while capable as a professor, lacked the hands on weaponry combat that Byleth had. It was something that Hubert and Edelgard would scold her over from time to time, stating that the Blue Lions should not try to monopolize the Black Eagles teacher. While Byleth had inclined to agree, she really did enjoy her time with the students, opting to disregard the complaints. 

After taking herself out of the tub, drying and dressing herself, Byleth walked out of the door to see Sylvain sitting next to her small dinner table area. A boyish grin plastered on his face as he approached her with an additional towel.  
“Even after everything, you’re still just as beautiful as ever,” he cooed. “I’ll make sure to get more bath salts for you too.” 

“Aren’t you a little worried about wooing a prisoner of war? Especially one like myself?” Byleth asked, trying to make out what his ulterior motive was. 

“Prisoner of war or not, you’re still someone I care about, we all do. Even Felix in his own weird way,” Sylvain answered slowly as the distance between them shortened. “You should also dry your hair off better, it’s only going to get colder. 

He would ruffle her mint hair with the fluffy towel, drying it more thoroughly than she had before. Enjoying the sight of her large light eyes, Sylvain’s amber eyes would change to irritation as he felt the steel of his own blade push gently at his midsection. 

“You just had to ruin the moment,” he sighed. 

“Moment? You mean when you let your own guard down?” Byleth replied blankly as she placed the sword back into Sylvain’s blue scabbard. 

Pushing his bangs from his face, raising his brow in annoyance, Sylvain would chuckle and shake his head. 

“I’m glad to see your fighting spirit is still there, that was always one of the best parts of you.”

She wasn’t surprised by his reaction. Byleth had already surmised Sylvain would figure that even if she had somehow escaped successfully, she wouldn’t last long in the heavy snows of Faerghus before being brought back. 

“We should have tea next time and I’ll see about picking up anything else you like,” Sylvain said with a mischievous grin. “Let me know when you finally decide on telling me your favorite flower is.”

“Sunflowers,” Byleth responded. 

“The hardest flowers to grow in Faerghus. You’re either lying or you can let me know what your second favorite flower is when you’re ready,” Sylvain would laugh with a wide smile. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but the Empire is heading to the Great Bridge of Myrddin.”

“Then why are you?” 

Sylvain had always been a wildcard in his academy days. While Hanneman would routinely complain about the Gautier’s lazy attitude towards his studies, Byleth knew that he was probably one of the more strategically intelligent students. In his attempts to flirt with her to break her silent barrier, Byleth played along, wondering what he wanted to know from her and what she could get out of him in return. 

“Figured you’d want to know what your old class was up to,” he’d answer back flippantly. “I should take my leave, there’s another rousing meeting that needs my presence.” He motioned her to come forward so he could lock her ankle chain. “Don’t make things hard on me, I already get enough from everyone else.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she said as he closed the chain. 

“Sylvain, call me Sylvain, I’m not a Margrave yet. Even when I am, call me Sylvain,” he huffed. “I knew you weren’t addressing people much, but not like this.” 

His eyes would meet hers, the familiar wall she put up whenever he made a pass at her in Garreg Mach. To think she had made so much progress in showing her emotions to only go back to this. 

“Fine, call me how you like, but you better eat when we have dinner together,” Sylvain said with resignation. “You’re getting too thin.”

****

Dedue would bring a vase of bright red calendulas to her room. A way to provide some color, he had reasoned. Byleth supposed it wasn’t such a bad gesture to have them, the rare winter flowers that could work in Faerghus weather. Mercedes would bring in a warm pastry for her when the rations would allow her to bake. She hadn’t had dinner with Sylvain yet, but was certain that he was eager to arrange things when he was available. 

The days had passed the same, something Byleth started to get used to until one midday, her doors would open to the form of Seteth in his usual blue robed appearance. Much like Sylvain, his face hadn’t changed, still stern faced, green haired and green bearded. 

“I…” he paused. “I’m unsure as to what to make of any of this.” He would pull a chair close to her bed after noticing the chain at her bed post. Sitting at the edge of her bed to face Seteth, he appeared much more strained than usual. 

“How much do you know of my existence, your grace?” Byleth asked. “We can start from there.”

Seteth thumbed through his beard as he tried to read Byleth’s face. He had heard enough from Dimitri and Sylvain to know that she wasn’t much for friendly conversation, not like he expected her to be. It was just the need he felt to speak with her. In spite of what her actions were, Seteth had already been incredulous over Rhea’s choices when he first read through Jeralt’s journal. 

“As a man who serves Rhea, what do you think happened to me?” she started out of curiosity. 

He hated that question, feeling that he was stuck between two sides. There was a part of him that remained loyal to Rhea, but also understood why Byleth felt the way she did. Even he had more of a choice with his own life and had only recently joined Rhea. Byleth had only known in her 20s that her destiny was molded from birth. It was perhaps a curse much worse than those born with crests and understood their roles since birth. 

“It appears the Goddess has another path for you that has not been revealed,” Seteth stated, trying to avoid a straight answer. “We are in a time of war, so there is much difficulty in understanding what that may be.”

Byleth nodded idly as it was nothing she hadn’t heard before. “What happens if it is opposite of what Rhea wants?”

The worst kind of question jumped into Seteth’s lap, one he should have been prepared for. As a man of the Church, his obligation was to the Goddess and Rhea was not above that. Yet, here he was, sitting in front of a chained progenitor goddess. 

His silence was enough for Byleth to understand, the cracks that her revival caused were deepening in those originally faithful to Rhea’s interpretation of faith. 

“I wanted to give you this,” he continued, taking a leather bound journal, handing it to Byleth. Her large eyes widened as she realized it was her father’s. Taking her small hands, she grabbed the weathered book, hugging it close to her body. 

“I’m sure you read the contents already,” Byleth would state, closing her eyes in gratefulness over another part of Jeralt coming back into her life. 

Seteth would nervously nod. In a normal circumstance, he would have respected privacy. However, Jeralt was already an enigma to almost everyone that Seteth had to take the opportunity to read through what happened during his 20 year missing period away from the Knights of Seiros. It was one of the hardest things he had to read as a father, to see that Rhea had done something to baby Byleth. His heart knew that if Rhea had done something similar to Flayn, he would have done much worse to Rhea than flee like Jeralt had. 

“Your father loved you dearly, it would have been wrong for me to keep it,” Seteth lamented. “We are all trying to work through what the Goddess wants and how to proceed based on her message through you.”

The man before her was a far cry from what she remembered in her academy days. Normally his reservation wouldn’t allow him to show someone like Byleth his true feelings so openly. Even bringing her father’s journal directly was odd when he could have easily had Dedue deliver it during his daily checkups. Seteth’s deep green eyes would linger a little more on Byleth before he stood to dismiss himself. 

She would watch him leave before opening up her father’s journal. His familiar handwriting had slightly faded since Byleth last read through it when Jeralt passed. There was comfort in recounting her childhood in his words, memories that she probably took for granted. Byleth would wonder on that fateful day at Remire Village, if Alois hadn’t ordered Jeralt back to Garreg Mach, would she still be with him? 

Moving her body fully under the blankets, Byleth’s mind would go back to the day when she entered Jeralt’s study, still grieving. When Edelgard approached her and spoke about Byleth being blinded with grief and potentially losing the will to carry on, Byleth looked back on those words, wondering if Edelgard spoke them as a way to mask her own guilt. It was true that the Adrestian Emperor was about progressing into the future, but at the cost of her actions hurting those in the present. In the opposite end of the spectrum, Rhea and Dimitri both were both holding too firmly onto the past. 

It was as she said to Dimitri the other day, everyone’s hands were covered in bloodshed. No matter what the reasoning, they all justified it in their own way. Despite his outburst during their dinner, he wasn’t wrong about what he said to Byleth either. She was selfish and her rationale was probably weak. There were many in Fodlan who would give everything to be blessed in the way she and Jeralt had been by Rhea. Still, Byleth would remain opposed to Dimitri, she was certain that he would follow Rhea until the very end. 

****

Sylvain would join her for afternoon tea, the smell of warm bergamot wafted. He would still remain annoyed with Byleth’s insistence at not addressing him by his name. Taking out a chess board, they went back and forth in wins, to the joy of Sylvain. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had so much fun,” he scratched his head at Byleth’s checkmate. “Five years of sleep really hasn’t dulled that mind of yours.”

She took a sip of the citrus tea, comforted by the heat hitting her throat. “Good to see that your mind is still sharp, it keeps me on my toes.” 

Sylvain smiled at the compliment, a rare instance he would ever receive one. He had been disappointed to see that Byleth still wasn’t eating properly, but figured with more friendly exchanges, he could get her to progress. 

“I always appreciated that you made time for me back in the day, even if you did refuse my advances in the past,” he joked. “In fact, I’m still resentful that I never got a dance with you.” 

“Parties like that were never something I could be accustomed to,” Byleth mused at the thought of the ball. 

“Is that why you went to the Goddess Tower with Ferdinand?” Sylvain poked. 

“You mean he followed me there, I was alone at first,” she replied as she arched an eyebrow. “Is it right for me to presume that you were there too?”

His brown eyes would stare up away from her, giving her the answer. “I just wanted to ask you for a dance,” he stated after a long pause. “He ended up beating me to it.”

“That’s all you heard?” 

Sylvain nodded with a pout. “That night might have been one of my bigger regrets with you, not getting there before him.” 

“Why do you act as if you didn’t have other options?” Byleth said as she doubted Sylvain’s words. 

“Why did you always underestimate your own appeal?” Sylvain shot back. “You still do.”

In a rare instance of surprise, Byleth was unsure as to what to say to the red haired man’s admission. Away was the boyish expressions, replaced with a hardened introspective adult whose gaze darkened as his thoughts marinated. 

“Byleth,” he started. “You have every right to be wary of me, we weren’t close enough back in the day to understand. If you think, when Rhea had you dispose of my brother Miklan, we had talked about how my own life was bound to my crest.”

His eyes would scrunch with an unfamiliar intensity that Byleth could only watch curiously. 

“At one point, I thought you were spoiled, even threatened to kill you because I thought you were gifted with the ignorance of Crests. Then we find out that Rhea put you in the role as a progenitor god, and yet,” Sylvain would pause, shutting his eyes to try and get the subsequent image out of his head. “You still stood your ground to the very end.”

The green haired girl started to understand his anguish that hid a combination of jealousy and curiosity. In a strange sense, it was nice seeing Sylvain so honest, away from the flowery language he would normally use. Byleth wasn’t ready to trust him, but understood why he had tried to be so kind to her. 

“I regret not wooing you properly five years ago, maybe we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” he would continue to confess. 

It was hard not to be flattered after that display. 

“Another game?” Byleth asked, trying to move Sylvain away from saying anymore. 

Normally he would have been annoyed at her avoidance of his words, but Sylvain reminded himself that they were technically still enemies, even if he didn’t think of her as one. It wasn’t as if it mattered, with Dimitri tied to Rhea, his childhood friend would follow as long as the Church of Seiros continued providing support. The obsession that both had over Byleth borderlined derangement, something he could forgive Dimitri for due to their past but not Rhea. How Byleth could remain as composed as she had, Sylvain wanted to know. 

“Fine, as long as we have dinner tonight,” Sylvain chided. “Promise you’ll eat everything on your plate.” 

She nodded, letting out a small laugh and smile. 

Sylvain would cherish them as a small gift of the day through many bad ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always imagined Sylvain being at odds with his path taken in CF 
> 
> Also, I wanted to explore Seteth cause I had heard that he was originally slated to also be recruitable for CF but they scrapped it.


	4. Duality

Byleth would hear back from Sylvain the next day that the Empire had easily bested the Alliance at the Great Bridge with the Death Knight leading the charge. Sylvain would elaborate that during her five year sleep, the Death Knight’s leadership had proved effective at winning battles, but never engaged in fights unless challenged due to unworthy opponents. Despite the Alliance putting up a strong front led by Judith, the Empire was able to muscle it’s way through at the cost of Petra and Caspar. 

The pounding in her heart rang to her ears over hearing her former students’ passing, something Byleth wasn’t accustomed to. As Sylvain left her alone to her thoughts, Sothis’ words creeped back about adults choosing their own fates. 

How can you have the Goddess’ power and still feel so helpless?

The rumored next stop would be Deidriu to put a halt to Claude, which Byleth would realize would be a last stand for the Alliance leader after the devastation at the Great Bridge. Always the schemer, Byleth was curious on what Claude’s escape plan would be. If the Death Knight had stood back in battle on the Great Bridge, it could only mean that he was confident in his ability to single handedly defeat everyone in the Alliance forces. 

The only person who had ever defeated the Death Knight was herself and unless Claude had a wildcard, the scales were tipped against him. 

The lines were starting to blur more. Though she was closer to her students, Byleth did not wish to see harm fall on Claude either. Thinking of Petra and Caspar, she wondered if she could have saved them. Would she have been able to lead in the path of least bloodshed versus them being under the Death Knight’s command? It would be easy for her to say yes to rid her of guilt. 

It was all she could think about. 

***

Rhea would stand out in the Fhirdiad castle balcony overlooking the vast city covered in snowflakes, clad in her white warrior garb. Despite the harsh coldness, she could not feel it through the heat of her anger. That traitorous child was still alive and being doted on by some of the former academy students. While King Dimitri insisted that it was necessary due to the sensitivity involved with her execution, Rhea could care little. The longer her mother lived in Byleth, the more she wanted to end the war to bring her full focus on getting her back. 

Zanado was once a beautiful dream, filled with peace and happiness amongst the Nabateans. In the warm days, Rhea would follow her mother out to an open field, lush with green listening to the song Sothis composed. The same song she sang to Byleth when the girl was sleeping on her lap after her transformation to try and jar the latent memories open. Instead, what remained was the evil whose existence taunted her so closely. Rhea had thought that the pain of losing her homeland and her mother was painful, but losing her mother’s very soul to someone not worthy surpassed this. 

There would always be devout followers of the Church, but no one could understand the loneliness of her near extinct lineage. Why couldn’t have Byleth have just understood how much she meant to her? 

She wouldn’t turn around to greet the footsteps behind her, knowing that Seteth and King Dimitri had finally arrived for their private meeting. 

“Your grace, may we know what brings us to your holy company,” Dimitri asked as he issued his normal bow, uniformly dressed in his dark armor and fur rimmed blue cape. 

“I think you know what this is about,” she said, finally turning around, whipping her long green braid. 

“Yes, I thought we would be discussing the state of Byleth,” Dimitri responded, lowering his gaze. 

“Such a troublesome child, I should have never listened to her mother when she asked me to save her,” ranted the archbishop. “Now she starts this full scale war siding with the Empire at the convenience of our castle.”

“Lady Rhea, if I may,” Seteth interrupted. “It has already spread amongst the faithful about what had occurred. We should exercise restraint.”

Of course there was already talk, Rhea knew the people in her ranks were trustworthy. It only meant that someone in Dimitri’s company had opened their mouths. Either that silly blonde healer or that skirt chasing knight had to be it. If the Kingdom of Faerghus and the Church of Seiros didn’t need each other so much to fight the Empire, Rhea would have already taken Byleth and punished those two long ago. 

“There is worry on what you will do with her,” Seteth continued. 

Rhea let out a dark low chuckle. “Once we win this war, my focus will be reviving my mother again, to get her away from that disgusting girl.” 

The green haired man felt a chill crawl through his spine hearing those words. This wasn’t the Rhea he knew, she was something much more twisted in this thirst for revenge. While the core of her followers were blindly faithful, the majority would flee at the current sight of her. 

“Forgive me for my lack of knowledge on this,” Dimitri spoke softly as to not ruffle Rhea more than he had to. “When I had spoken with Byleth, she had mentioned that the Goddess told her that their souls were fused together. Would this not mean that Byleth will also be revived once again?”

“It took me twelve times to create Sitri before she successfully gave birth to the thirteenth. These things take time, your majesty. My full intention is to separate them, no matter how long it requires,” answered Rhea with an angry glint in her eyes. “I will not have that fallen one continue to taint the purity of my mother.”

Seteth had to pull himself to hide his disgust over what he was hearing. While observing Dimitri, he wondered if the king felt the same way. For Rhea to have dominion over whom the Goddess chose to be with was blasphemous. 

“Does it bother you, your majesty? I know she was a popular figure back in the day and you held a high image of her. There were so many that adored her, who gave their hearts to her and she so easily threw them all away. Myself included.” Rhea drew closer to Dimitri, whispering in his ear “It’s a falsehood, that girl. She fooled us all.” 

Dimitri felt the anchor of the voices in his head echo their thoughts, ranging from receiving Edelgard’s head on a platter to his sentimentality being his weakness. Over the years, they changed, warping to include some of the fallen that he had slain on the way. The loudest always remained his stepmother, his father and Glenn, all telling him that it wasn’t worth keeping a traitor like Byleth. 

“You have my word, your grace. After the war, once the Kingdom has won and exacted just punishment, Byleth will belong to the Church,” promised Dimitri. 

Seteth stood, hiding his shock, at the intimate exchange between the two people in front of him. Lady Rhea, no Lady Seiros and the Tempest King, together, agreeing on questionable experimentation. Had his lady not remembered how her mother was originally dissected by the Agarthans to make Nemesis? For as long as Seteth knew Rhea, her grief over her mother’s death was a well hidden hole in her heart. Somehow he was blinded to how deep it had gotten through the years. 

He continued to watch the two leaders in silence, understanding less and less what he was fighting for anymore. 

***

Dimitri would leave the other two at the balcony as the snow transitioned to heavy rain, feeling physically numb from his exchange with Rhea. The voices continued to berate him for his hesitation over her admittance in using Byleth for further experiments. Such an undeserving girl, not worth his pity, for siding with that monster. 

Why did she have to wake up?

If only she hadn’t, it would have made things easier for him in his journey to kill Edelgard. He had cared very little about the Empire students in the academy and gave up rekindling his friendship with his former step sister due to his suspicions over the Adrestian’s potential involvement over the Tragedy of Duscar. Yet, he enjoyed their professor’s company when he could coax her into spending time with him. For a house leader, it was probably self indulgent, but out of all the professors, Byleth was the only one to have combat experience without the supervision of the Knights of Seiros. 

It didn’t help that Rhea had selected the Adrestian students to handle Church issues involving Faerghus territory. Dimitri understood that Hanneman, an obsessive Crest scholar, was the wrong choice to lead those charges. However, as the heir to the Faerghus throne, he should have been able to request that his class had priority to those missions with a temporary professor change. Under his chivalrous facade, Dimitri envied hearing Catherine’s and Ashe’s praises of Byleth during the Lord Lonato battle along with Gilbert’s and Sylvain’s after the Miklan fiasco. These, along with saving his life when they first met, made him feel as if he was in debt to Byleth. 

A debt that the voices told him was no longer there because of her betrayal. One she could have avoided if only she accepted his help. 

Before she was the professor or the Ashen Demon, Byleth was Jeralt Eisner’s daughter just as he was Lambert’s son. They both lost the ones they loved to people they were supposed to trust yet she was so blind to this. When Dimitri had heard that Byleth had ruthlessly chased after Kronya in the woods for her revenge, he thought he had an ally that understood his feelings. 

Yet, she sided with the Empire, the very ones that had successfully murdered both of their fathers. 

He couldn’t accept her answer that it was in the name of freedom when his own memories of King Lambert weighed him down everyday. Was it really that easy for her to throw away her 20 years of memories with Jeralt to join their common enemy? Even agreeing to Rhea’s request to hand Byleth over after the war was difficult, especially knowing what the plan was and Dimitri had only known her for one year. 

Deciding that it would be best to inform Byleth of her impending handoff to the Church at the end of the war, Dimitri would pay her a visit. Upon entering her room, he would find it empty, with her unlocked chain neatly placed at the corner of her bed. It was likely that Dedue honored a rare request of some sort given that there had been no commotion in the castle. He would see Jeralt’s leather journal on the dresser table, something Seteth had requested to give back to her personally. Flipping through the pages slowly, it wasn’t much that he didn’t already know from what others had said. The only difference was reading how much gruff, angry looking, Jeralt loved his daughter, enough to try and run away from everything he knew and built. 

Dimitri couldn’t bring himself from continuing any further, thinking about Rhea’s words on how Byleth had so many who loved her. How lucky was she to have the words of her doting father so easily accessible? He was certain that she could still remember Jeralt’s face unlike his own fading memories of Lambert. It made Dimitri seethe with anger at how she so easily joined Edelgard and the Empire. 

Leaving the room, he started his pursuit in locating Byleth and Dedue. 

***

The tall Duscaran opened the door to the area that Byleth knew as the spot of her failed execution. It didn’t matter why Dedue had chosen the area as much as her need to just stand outside. Declining his offer for a coat, Byleth walked into the rain in her usual nightgown and slippers, stepping closer and closer to the center area where she had stood the last time. The familiar feel of cold wetness on her face hid the rare warm tears that streamed down. 

She couldn’t bear crying in her prison under fresh covers and pillows while her students had died in a bloody battle. Her thoughts ran to the violet haired Brigid princess, who used to climb trees with ease, hunting for sport. Petra was always so eager to learn, fearless and charming, making her a joy to teach. When they had last spoken before their battle with Rhea five years ago, they had promised to go to Brigid together to enjoy the summer beaches. Would they be able to take her home? Byleth was certain that was what Petra would have wanted. 

Back when she had first met Caspar, the blue haired boy was brash and charged into battle with no thought. Through her teachings, Byleth admired his open personality, despite how much trouble he would get for the fights he would get into. She remembered the boy who went in head first for what he thought was right, the one who would always request to train with him so he could protect the weak. Was he able to do that to the very end?

Byleth would think of Kronya stabbing Jeralt under the guise of Monica and pulsing back, only to have Thales thwart her. Not even the best healers in Garreg Mach could heal Jeralt due to the odd nature of the knife. 

The dull, hard, pain pounding in her chest would only slightly be quieted by the sound of rain. It was easier to breathe outside, even with how cold it was. The dark grey open skies carried over their clouds, not unlike the ones that floated when she first cried over Jeralt’s body. This was all too familiar, only the physical tightness of heartbreak being felt for the first time. She would continue to shed tears while standing motionless, feeling the weight of not being able to do anything.

***

Dedue would bow to the approaching king before turning his gaze back to the unmoving rain soaked girl. The brightness of her green hair illuminated the lifeless outdoors. Dimitri would watch her with him, until taking his slow steps out the door. He remembered the dark haired girl in the rain, trying to enter the training room, filled with sadness and pain hiding under blankness. 

“I’m so sorry about what happened to Jeralt... No...of course my sorrow is nothing compared to yours. The knights are even now searching for our enemies’ whereabouts. They are to report back the moment they find something. If you desire revenge, Professor...you can count me in.” 

Dimitri would still remember those words he would say when Byleth came out from her grieving period. She would nod in thanks, eyes still puffy from crying before leaving him. It had been an opportunity to repay her for taking care of the issues involving Faerghus and to show his solidarity. For years, he wondered if maybe she thought little of him. There were still so many things Dimitri wished he could ask, but it didn’t make sense anymore. 

Standing next to her, his blue eyes peered down to see her staring straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him. Her wet mint hair had flattened and curved onto her cheeks as drops continued to fall, making Dimitri unsure if she was still crying. She uncaringly stood in the cold, her clothes clinging close to her body and the mind clearly wandered away from what was currently real. Either way, he knew this feeling, something had triggered her to send her back to the day of Jeralt’s death. It was much like his episodes that brought him to the Tragedy of Duscar, the fires, piles of burnt bodies, the smell of smoke and cooked flesh stinging his nose as his own father’s request for revenge echoed. At times, he would stare into the flames of his fireplace, remembering when he walked through them as a boy trying to grasp the destruction in front of him. 

His head would start pounding as the voices grew heavy, ridiculing him for feeling nostalgic over the fool. Dimitri would mentally remind them that he had already promised the traitorous prisoner to the Church. After the war was won, the girl would no longer be a concern. They would continue to mock him, goading him into letting her know about the archbishop’s plans for her body. Byleth deserved to sit in her prison, thinking about the ways that Rhea was going to torture her for her mother’s soul. She was an abomination, a mistake that should have never existed in the first place, deserving of the most agonizing treatments the Church could provide. 

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her like he planned. Dimitri would convince himself that perhaps it would be best if she didn’t know to make the rest of her time in the castle easier. The voices would laugh at him for his cowardice. 

There was no going back anyways, she had abandoned him and he had just sold her out. Still, on this rainy day, he would remember admiring the girl who gave her kindness to all, the one who shared her knowledge of the outside world so openly. Maybe Byleth was a shell of that now but for once, she allowed him to stand by her side, even if it was begrudgingly. Dimitri would indulge his younger self, the one who so eagerly welcomed her to Faerghus when they first met on that fateful day in Remire Village.

It served as a humble moment that whether fire or water, they were both the same for that small period of time, two souls that lost their fathers to questionable circumstances. 

The guilt would start to creep in as Dimitri stared ahead with her, feeling the rare wish that the voices would just scream at him more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CF Dimitri confuses me a lot. I never quite understood why him and Dedue were more sad than angry with Byleth during their battle in Tailtean. Due to that, I wanted to explore the possibilities with this one based on some of the dialogue he had and also others about him.


	5. Soften

It was the sea breeze of Deirdriu that made it bearable enough for him to keep his armor on in the beating sun. Perhaps it didn’t aid his current temperament, but there wasn’t much that did. Pulling his long orange hair behind him, Ferdinand von Aegir had little to be happy for after the Empire victory at the Great Bridge. While strategically, this meant that the Alliance was severely weakened due to the death of Judith, the preventable losses of Caspar and Petra angered the knightly noble. Even worse was Edelgard’s own justification of it. 

He had known about Edelgard’s obsession with the Professor through her constant statements about how things would have been better if she was around. During Byleth’s five year absence, the Empress spent many resources trying to locate her after Rhea’s dragon form had destroyed the battlefield floor. However, her anguish then did not compare to how she felt now. After receiving a report that King Dimitri had held Byleth captive in Fhirdiad, Edelgard’s despair magnified

By putting the trust in the Death Knight to lead the charge, Ferdinand knew that most soldiers were brought into battle with fear instead of courage. Either they were to listen to their commander and battle the enemy or be cut down by him for accepting questionable orders. As a result, battles were more frantic than the enthusiastic energy that Byleth would have brought. To see the aftermath, Linhardt’s frozen demeanor as he tried to heal Caspar’s bloodied corpse and Dorothea’s tears as she held Petra close, were enough. 

He recalled the conversation in Edelgard’s tent after the battle, her light purple eyes staring into a large map under an oil lamp, attempting to ignore his presence. She would sigh, knowing that it would be better to be done with it. 

“What is it?” she asked, her red armored back refusing to turn to face him. 

“I believe you know what I wish to speak to you about,” Ferdinand replied with a low hush. “Why must you have someone whom will not go into the battlefield and lead our soldiers? If he is so powerful, why must he be so selfish with his own life at the cost of those he commands?”

His words would hit hard and true as much as Edelgard hated it. If Ferdinand was able to see her face, perhaps it would have garnered some sympathy. She would never show him as her path would remain forward, even when her own heart was grieving. 

“Jeritza is the most powerful knight we have in our service, to potentially lose him so soon, especially with much stronger enemies ahead would greatly weaken us,” Edelgard responded firmly. “I trust his ability to detect the strength of his opponents.”

Ferdinand's eyes lowered to the ground, knowing that it was another excuse or maybe he didn’t know Edelgard as well as he thought. The war had been going on for so long that perhaps he had been ignorant to her change or maybe the proper strategies were moving ahead of him. The Death Knight’s methods were certain not something that someone of Ferdinand’s noble standard would approve of. To have so much power, yet hold back in a battlefield of death to not save your comrades, didn’t that go against everything noble and just? 

To save Caspar

To save Petra

“What if he never finds a worthy enough opponent to fight for us?” he asked curiously, unsure as to what to expect. “The only person he has ever felt worthy of him is the Professor. When is it too late?”

It was the first time she had ever stayed quiet at a challenge of his. To Ferdinand, this did not serve as the victory against her that he dreamed of during his academy days. As they waited for their orders, he wondered if maybe his ideals were short sighted. Many nobles had shown to be corrupted, including his own father. Was his dream of achieving his noble ideals naïve? He knew that Edelgard didn’t see him as a worthy advisor, wishing only the Professor to be by her side. Perhaps she was right that he was not equal to the both of them, but he couldn’t be the only one who thought the Death Knight’s leadership was not the right direction. 

No, he knew he wasn’t the only one, just another who she wouldn’t listen to. 

If only the Professor were here.

************************************************************************************************************

She would wake up the next morning with a mild cold, yet another reason having Goddess powers wasn’t all that it was cracked out to be. Byleth certainly felt better emotionally after standing outside in the rain, though she could have really done without the presence of King Dimitri. Out of everyone she had reunited so far, he held the least physical resemblance to his past self, making it easier for her to disassociate him from her old friend. One moment this ghost told her that he wished the Goddess hadn’t saved her and the next, he was standing with her in the rain in some strange sign of comradery. 

It wasn’t worth overthinking what the King was doing when she could barely understand what she was doing anymore. Past Sylvain, there weren’t many people who would just visit and chat with her to pass the time. As promised, Byleth had started eating more while he remained annoyed at her for addressing him formally. The recent mention of the Death Knight sent a chill through her spine and reminded her that even in her current circumstance, she had to try and remain physically ready for battle. 

In five years, there was still no one who had beaten the Death Knight in battle. Did she still even stand a chance? He could have only improved during those years while she was sleeping. Even worse, she was weaker than she was in their last battle due to her imprisonment. There wasn’t much that she could do to prepare in her room, but Byleth at least had to try. Whether it was some physical activity involving bodyweight or swordplay, her years of training at least helped her muscle memory.

While she practiced some footwork, Mercedes would open the door with a tray of medicines and a plate of pastries. Her deep blue eyes reflected sadness over their stagnant relationship as she wondered what Byleth was doing up from bed. 

“Oh dear, I don’t believe it’d be good for you to be up,” she worried. “I heard that you were outside in the rain for quite some time.”

“His majesty was out there too, maybe you should be by his side instead of mine?” Byleth quipped as she saw Mercedes wince at the remark. 

“I’m not as worried about King Dimitri given that he was born and raised in Faerghus, the citizens here are well adapted to the cold,” Mercedes said as she set down the tray on the dresser table. “You were built in a much warmer climate.” 

“I think you forget that my first days back from sleep were in the castle prison cells, they weren’t exactly warm and I still managed to survive,” Byleth huffed as she laid back down on her bed. 

Mercedes would smile grimly as she put the back of her hand on Byleth’s forehead. “There is actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Byleth raised a green brow as the healer remained steadfast in her expression. 

“There is a reason why the Goddess has decided to be a part of you and I’m certain you’ll find the answers to your questions eventually,” she started to say as she removed her hand. “While you may be here and not in the battlefield, I’d like to ask if you can keep me a promise.” 

With no response, Mercedes continued, “After five years, you remain the only person who has ever bested the Death Knight in battle. He still chases you. What I would like to ask is if you meet him again, please give me a chance to say goodbye.”

She would see Byleth’s green eyes harden with some confusion, Mercedes could only hope for some understanding. 

“The Death Knight is my brother, Emile.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Byleth would ask in shock. “There are others that would sooner meet him in the battlefield than me.”

“Emile has met many these five years and from what I know, it’s only made him wish his last battle is against you.”

Byleth stayed perplexed at what Mercedes revealed to her. What exactly happened in those five years that made the Death Knight think she was still a worthy opponent? 

“You seem to think I still have a chance at winning a fight against him even at my current state,” Byleth mumbled as she raised her own arm up to see her thinning forearm. 

“Make no mistake, I will fight for King Dimitri until the very end, but this part of my life is something he will not be able to help me with.”

In short, his responsibilities with regards to the Church, Lady Rhea and his revenge against Edelgard made things busy enough for him. 

“Why would I keep this promise?” Byleth inquired as Mercedes let out a shy chuckle. 

“I never expected you to at all, I’m just happy you listened, just like when we used to have tea together back at the academy,” thanked Mercedes as she tipped a vial of medicine onto a large spoon. 

Byleth would swallow the bitter liquid presented to her. In another life, she would have fought side by side with the Death Knight with Mercedes serving as an opponent. Even if she had been fighting in the war, would she have allowed them to say goodbye to each other?

“Annette and I baked these pastries today, I hope you enjoy them,” Mercedes said cheerfully as she left the room. 

Taking a delicate, buttery, puffed pastry that was filled with sweet raspberry jam, Byleth took a large bite and instantly missed the days she would take tea with the Blue Lion girls. It was such a shame that something so delicious could only serve her the reminder of how this war drove them all apart. 

It was a mistake letting Sylvain in, now it seemed that she was doing the same with Mercedes.

*************************************************************************************************************

The first line of defense in Deidriu proved easy to penetrate, though there was one factor that Edelgard knew would be a challenge. As much as Dimitri used to chastise her about being wary of whom she gave her trust, he failed to see that maybe he was too trusting, otherwise he could see that Rhea was not a capable ally. The only thing they held them together was their pathetic obsession with revenge, both of them incapable of seeing the damage that Crests had done to their world. 

It took a Ward spell and a Warp spell to prepare her for the frontlines against the one person she wanted to protect on the battlefield. Hubert had wanted her to reconsider her stance on such a strategy, but Edelgard’s heart told her otherwise. There were very few people who understood what she had gone through in her childhood and most of them were dead. To find one back in her academy days shocked her, their white hair sharing the kinship. She had failed to bring Lysithea to the Black Eagles class despite their shared deep roots, a regret that she had to rectify. 

Edelgard knew she had to strike first, for a fellow test subject, it would be worth it. 

In the midst of battle, the Alliance soldiers had been surprised at the sight of the red armored Empress. Such a leader was willing to take a massive risk, placing herself in the middle of her enemies. A mixture of awe and fear spread through the Alliance army, one that Claude realized too late as it drove their morale down. 

She was able to buy enough time for the rest of the army to catch up. Once she could sense their presence, Edelgard turned her attention to the direction of Lysithea, who remained heavily guarded by soldiers. It was easy work going through them, even with the heavy spells that hit her. Lysithea’s bright pink eyes widened as she dropped to her knees to yield, awaiting the same fate as her fallen comrades. 

“You should not be kneeling in front of me Lysithea,” Edelgard began. “I fight against the monsters who started the Crest system, the ones that made us their victims.” 

The small girl would stand up, facing Edelgard in awe, the Empress with her resolute aura. 

“A mistake was made in the past. While Claude is a masterful tactician, he is always thinking about his next escape. You see him now, waiting for the opportunity to leave when Deirdriu falls,” the lavender eyed girl continued. “I have come to you, to ask you to join me. Not as an Alliance member, but as sisters in battle.” 

Her words were either poison or sweet honey, either way, Lysithea didn’t care. To have the opportunity to still live her shortened life and to fight alongside someone who knew the same pain she did was entrancing. 

“The Alliance is over no matter what. The only thing left is to place faith in you Edelgard,” 

*************************************************************************************************************

The rumors had spread across the castle about the unusual meeting between the prisoner and the king. Most would speculate that King Dimitri was only watching after Byleth as promised due to her status, Seteth pondered over whether the Tempest King had told Byleth of Rhea’s intentions. He wanted to hate Byleth more and more as time passed due to Rhea’s deteriorating mental condition, but ended up at odds with Rhea herself. This was the same woman who had kept the fact that the relics were made of Nabatean bone to protect her people and the humans. Now, the monster before him would likely spend the rest of her life obsessed with one life while neglecting others. 

He teetered on the idea of asking Dimitri himself, but the young King proved to be avoidant over his presence after their meeting on the balcony. Would it be worth talking with Byleth himself? Was it to protect the girl or the goddess within her? The Church of Seiros would remain loyal to Rhea even if Seteth thought to rebel. 

Regardless of his own actions, she deserved to know. 

Though Mercedes had informed him that Byleth had caught a cold, Seteth requested that he be able to join her for tea. He would select a ginger tea, a favorite of his and a good choice for someone sick. Upon knocking on her door and slowly opening at her response, Seteth would see her rise from bed with a yawn from an afternoon nap. 

Sitting across from each other, with the fragrance of spice in between them, Seteth poured a cup for Byleth as she watched him intently. Their last meeting had been mostly one sided and she never expected to see him at all after it. His dark green eyes were pensive, but more decisive than when she saw him before. 

Sipping on her tea, she waited. 

“I heard you were with his majesty the other day,” he stated as he poured his own tea. “My meeting with you was to inquire if he had discussed anything with you.”

“Odd of you to ask me for tea about something like this,” Byleth stated with a heavy gaze. “If you must know, we didn’t talk about anything, he just….stood there.”

“I have….struggled to put my thoughts together, both as a member of the Church and as a father,” confessed Seteth. “It makes me wonder why his majesty did not inform you of such updates like he should have.”

“Updates?” 

The Nabatean man pursed his lips before raising his cup of tea for a sip. Clearing his throat, he braced himself. 

“About handing you to the Church, under Lady Rhea, for the purpose of splitting your soul from the Goddess.”

It hadn’t occurred to Byleth that it was even possible to split a soul based on what Sothis told her about always being together. Yet, it didn’t surprise her that Rhea wanted to try. In fact, it would have been strange for her not to give her hatred for Byleth. Perhaps she should have been scared but it was Seteth that astonished her. Why would someone so close to Rhea go out of his way to try and tell her so gently? 

Sipping on her tea, Byleth felt a twinge of gratefulness towards the man across her. There was no hatred and malice in his voice, he was just straightforward. Questions started sprouting in her mind, unsure as to what Seteth was willing to answer, but she had to at least try. 

“Why over tea?” she asked curiously. “You could have easily just told me and left the room. By doing this, it makes me think you want to talk to me about something.”

“Perceptive as usual, as you can tell, I am at odds with what his majesty and Lady Rhea are planning with you,” Seteth acknowledged. “We know that if it is the Goddess’ will, Rhea should have no jurisdiction.”

“What if I corrupted the Goddess?” 

“You mean the woman before me, who was so ready to see her father, corrupted the Goddess to stop that?” he retorted with a deep sadness in his eyes. “I read your father’s journal enough to know how much he loved you and I know how much you still love him.”

Byleth realized then that there was another factor she hadn’t considered. If Rhea failed to split her soul from Sothis, she would continue to do it over and over until she was successful. It was an anguish that would prolong her desire to see Jeralt in the afterlife and a fear that started to bubble in the pit of her stomach. As much as she wanted to hope that Sothis’ past words were more than a passing dream, her present proved hard to accept. 

“Is that why you’ve been so hesitant? Are you thinking of Flayn?” she asked cautiously. 

“In a lifetime ago, you saved her life without hesitation. I will always be grateful for that and in your debt. If there is any dignity that can be given in this situation, please know that I will try my best,” he said, staring at his cooling tea. 

“Flayn,” Byleth hesitated. “Is she well?”

Seteth smiled at the thought of his only daughter. Though his own faith had wavered on the former professor, Flayn had never given up on the possibility that her old friend was still there. For the purpose of her safety, Seteth could not bring himself to have them meet, but he knew that she would be overjoyed to hear that he was able to have a civil tea session with Byleth. 

Of course, Rhea did not have to know about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for those that have taken the time to read my fic! 
> 
> Please feel free to comment, I'm always welcome to feedback. 
> 
> For this chapter, I think the lines are starting to fuzz more. In a strange way, Byleth is sort of an "out" for those who are on the side of Faerghus/Church without actually stepping out at all. 
> 
> Appreciate the support, love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm running on the reasoning that Byleth can be saved by Sothis again due to their souls being intertwined. My thought is that with the CF ending, Sothis felt that she was no longer needed after the last link to the Church influence, Rhea, finally died along with Flayn and Seteth leaving the world.


End file.
